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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 289015" data-attributes="member: 227">Wyshira and Burl volunteered themselves to accompany the smithy party; a decision on Burl's part that was partially based on his desire to keep away from the Inquisitor. It was obvious that they had their differences of opinion on certain matters, so the best course of action open to him seemed to be to keep a low profile and do what he could to help that wouldn't upset anyone else.Latorath gazed at Kale, the Inquisitor's features locked in impasive calm, but the young mercenary thought he could detect a litlle... admiration? in the man's eyes. "You are brave, young man. I respect that." Kale looked quizically to the Inquisitor, unsure what to think. The effects of such a declaration, Kale couldn't know, but it was a compliment from a good man: Kale shook himself from his indecision and nodded respectfully. Let's just hope this bravery gets me back alive... "Nonetheless, our captive werewolf is of no use in creating a distraction for us. She is, to be blunt, a raving madwoman; all she does is mutter and speak what is more or less gibberish at the moment. I believe her mind has broken - shattered, like a mirror.""So we have yourself, young man, to provide our last distraction. You, young priestess, and your wizard companion here, perhaps accompanied by the smith and two more warriors? Yet we need the preliminary bait still.""Nothing I can't deal with," Wolf said in his quiet tone, locking gazes with Evant; and the knight strode over to stand by the mercenary, gleaming armour catching the rays of sun and sending them dazzling off in all directions. "It'll only be a short distraction before they realise that there'll be no point attacking us," the Templar said enigmatically, "but I'm pretty sure we can catch their attention for a little while, enough to get the smithy party out of the back of the building and over to their destination." The Inquisitor nodded. "I trust you two to have a good plan, then." He smiled suddenly. "Evant always does seem to in situations like this. Very well, are you all ready? Any last suggestions before we embark upon this?" There were no more suggestions.The merc team equipped themselves liberally with firebombs, though Wyshira found a certain repulsion at the thought of horrible, consuming fire, her water genasi nature coming to the fore. Kale dumped most of his gear within the temple; if he was going to effectively immolate himself there was no point incarrying any gear with him that might be damaged in the chase and subsequent flames. His quiver of arrows was passed to Burl with instructions to silver the tips while they were at work. He also borrowed some boots of an unsuspecting villager, having no real wish to burn his own footwear. He just hoped he wouldn't end up like these temporary boots..."Wolf, tell me something about these werewolves." Wyshira asked the older mercenary before he walked away with the Templar to plan their diversion. "I've only heard folk tales, which I never really more than half believed." It was certainly true that, even if she did believe that werewolves existed, she had never imagined being faced with such creatures herself, outside of a nightmare. "What do they want? Is it our blood they are after? Or is it death alone that they feed on? And what about what the legends say? Is it true that those who are bitten by werewolves are cursed and become one of them?" Wyshira spoke quietly, just loud enough for Wolf and any of the crew to hear. No need to give the hapless villagers any more reason to be afraid, after all.Wolf shrugged at Wyshira's questions. "I think these werewolves want their packmate back. I don't think they feed on death or blood any more than any other carnivorous creature, either. As for whether others can be turned into werewolves by a lycanthropes bite, I doubt it. I've never seen it happen myself.""Right, form up," Latorath commanded loudly, suddenly falling into the persona of field sergeant with apparent ease as he marshalled the militiamen into action. "You two - crossbows and spears, yes, that's right, take some scale mail too, you might need the protection. Grab one of the crates of crossbow bolts. You two," he gestured to Wyshira and Burl, "take another container of weapons between you." They then ran into problems of course, because there was still the matter of carrying a few more weapons to be silvered, and the silver itself, so Latorath quickly assigned an additional militiaman to what he had originally planned to aid the blacksmith, a big burly man, in carrying such objects. "Four men, covering the rear exit with crossbows, fire on any werewolves that attempt to block the sallying party. Another four, cover Evant and the mercenary out front, same orders. Others, keep up same perimeter positions, fire on any sign of werewolf activity - we'll need to keep them cowering. Don't use any firebombs unless they suddenly try and mass an attack." As the Inquisitor dispersed orders, the small band of six headed through into the back of the temple, entering the kitchen. The small room had a door opening out back - currently barricaded, along with windows from which militia soldiers scanned the open ground around the priests herb garden, a small area lined with a low hedge. The fire was on, a pot boiling up food for the refugees in the main hall, and the elderly priest carefully doled it out into bowls to be dispersed amongst them. With the guards having pulled on scale mail, they were ready to go; the blacksmith had grabbed a hefty wood-chopping axe for himself but the merceneries knew it was unlikely to prove much use against the lycanthropes. At the front entrance, the throng within watched the Templar and the mercenary curiously, the two men apparently rather jovial for people about to run the gauntlet of a rabid lycanthrope coven. "Time for some wolf-baiting," Wolf said quietly, suddenly grinning in uncharacteristic fashion. The Solar Templar drew his blade, the weapon glinting in the light, and nodded. "Certainly. Let's see how long it takes for the message to get through their thick skulls, shall we?" * * *The two men rushed out of the front double doors down the street, a good many feet covered before they came to a halt and began yelling, taunting and generally making a racket. It wasn't long before trouble showed. Shapes suddenly moving amidst the nearby shadows revealed that the werewolves stationed to watch the temple were closing in with interest, a certain wariness visible as they slunk out of cover to approach. All in hybrid form - scrawny, mangy wolfmen of haggard but wiry appearance, they circled in towards the men and snarled with slobbering jaws, feral visages twisted in malice. Wolf simply made a rude gesture at them. Snarling, they all loped in. * * *"Go!" commanded one of the militia crossbowmen, and the party of six began to run down the street towards the blacksmiths, the sound of conflict coming from over the other side of the temple. Hopefully the diversion was working, but it didn't make the run any less nervewracking; hearts skipped a beat at the slightest movement within shadows, that might herald the appearance of a slavering killer. They were nearly there when the zip and zing of crossbows heralded pursuit. A lone wolfman had come running from a sidestreet to intercept them but the militia bolts sent him scuttling back for cover, and they made the last few feet to the smithy. * * *The militia crossbowmen at the front of the temple opened fire, their precious few silvered bolts arcing at the closing wolfmen. Few hit, and there was fear of striking the two men. But this sudden sting, as one werewolf staggered with a bolt in its thigh and an other ran yelping in pain from a hit to its buttock, caused some faltering from the oncoming pack, and it was only compounded when Wolf raised his hands, and simply clapped three times, muttering something under his voice. It was odd, maybe a prayer or something, but the rather launguid stance of the two men combined with this nonchalant gesture confused the werewolves momentarily. Then they just charged in anyway, four werewolves against two men. Wolf and Evant stood there with faintly bored expressions on their faces as the lycanthropes tried to claw them to pieces but with merely the effect as if they were hitting a brick wall. Latorath watched fascinatedly from the temple, saying to himself quielty but loud enough for Kale to hear, "Fascinating. I can feel Fenris at work..." The werewolves stopped, puzzled, then Evant ran one through with his sword. * * *In the smithy, the party could hear the sounds of fighting had died down - they could only pray that the diversion had made it through alive, for from here, with the limited vision supplied by the building, they could not see for themselves. The lay of the building meant that the people in the temple couldn't get a clear view of them, either. A squat, low building off of the blacksmiths actual home, the square single room was walled with stone and rooved with thick timbers and slate. One single window looked out onto a sidestreet, while the broad door opened up onto the adjoining side. With the forge taking up much of one corner of the place, the other walls were lined with tools and objects, and fuel and boxes of materials were scattered around. The three militiamen quickly closed the wooden door and barricaded it solidly, though through cracks they could keep a view into the street beyond. Likewise, the window had its shutters bolted closed. Dumping their baggage on the ground, they set to work aiding the blacksmith to fire up the forge, and the smith then searched out to find his own bars of silver, along with iron chunks to add to the quantity. Laying the massive axe down by it, he began work. "It'll be a while before we have enough heat to melt up the silver - sorry 'bout that. We'll just have to sit it out 'till then." * * *Wolf and Evant strode back into the temple, the werewolves having fled. "Did they make it?" * * *There was a crunch as something slammed itself against the barricaded smithy door, and the militiamen sprang to grab their weapons. On the other side, a werewolf rabidly began to claw its way through the timbers. Suddenly the bolted shutters splintered inwards as the upper torso of a werewolf appeared through it, this second interloper pulling its way in with a crazed and feral look on its muzzled features.</blockquote>

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